Finding herself again
by Nano-no1
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, life got in the way and the kiss that Ron and Hermione shared, the proclamation of girlfriend status and the handholding, wasn't enough to keep them together. Their lives have gone down different paths, but sometimes, true love is unavoidable. What happens when life throws them back together again?
1. Chapter 1

**I am a huge Ronmione shipper, but I often feel that the first part of their relationship might have been tough – although Ron had finally matured enough for a relationship with Hermione and she had chilled enough to have a bit more patience with him, even the strongest of relationships can be tested at times of sorrow and devastation. And the outcome of the Battle of Hogwarts was just the rotting cherry on top of a long and agonising childhood for Ron and his friends – so although I don't believe they would be apart for as long as the following story suggests – I do think it would be a tumultuous start – but then again, what else could they expect after 7 years of regular and heated arguments and misunderstandings!**

 **Feel free to review! Enjoy!**

Hermione dropped heavily onto the chair. Matthew had just walked out. For good. She'd come home after a really long day at work and was looking forward to a glass of wine and their Thursday night takeaway whilst no doubt listening to the quidditch match on the wizarding wireless. Instead, she'd walked into the kitchen to find a note from Matthew saying he had left. They'd been together for 3 years and he'd moved in about 6 months ago. She hadn't actually wanted him to move in - after having grown up at Hogwarts then living with her parents until she could buy a place of her own, she had thoroughly enjoyed having her own space for once. Matthew however, had said that that was what the next step in their relationship needed to be. He'd said that if they were truly to be together, then they needed to be in each other's lives more permanently.

She shook her head slowly - she'd known he was having financial difficulties at the time, and although he'd never admitted it, she was sure he'd been evicted from his flat for not paying the rent. He tended to spend money that he didn't have and always had excuses as to why they were essential purchases. And at the time she really hadn't minded too much. She'd loved him and although she had been enjoying her own space, she knew he needed somewhere to live.

Looking back now, she realised she'd maybe been a bit naive. He hadn't helped with any bills come to think of it, often asking her to cover him financially for this and that, promising to pay her back when he could, spending money on replacing furniture and things around the house, convincing her that he had to feel like he was at home rather than just squatting at someone else's house. And now he was gone. Apparently he'd fallen in love with someone he met at the pub and he was going to go away with her as she was being sent to Egypt for long term business.

As Hermione sat and stared into the fireplace she could feel her eyes starting to burn. She didn't want to cry. He'd just shattered her heart like it was nothing but a spare cup. Why should he get her tears? But as she felt the tears start to roll down her cheeks she thought back to his departing words hastily scribbled onto a bit of parchment ripped from the shopping list.

'When you pack up my things, make sure they are wrapped up well. Don't want them getting damaged in storage. You broke my Trophy glass last month and when you repaired it, it looked wrong, so you'll need to see if it can be replaced. Oh and make sure none of your books get into my boxes.'

Anger started to boil inside her. How dare he assume that she would be responsible for clearing out his stuff! He could very well come back and do it himself if it was all so important to him! The pain behind her eyes began to dissipate and the tears dried up as she flew out of the chair, anger flowing through her blood. She needed to get out of here. She would not sit in this house a moment longer and nurse her own broken heart. She grabbed her bag, which currently had a couple of books in that she was reading. She found her keys and her diary. It was a beautiful evening with a gorgeous sunset. She'd find somewhere new to go. Somewhere peaceful with no Matthew memories. She'd write in her diary and leave this chapter of her life behind her a bunch of words on a page. It was Harry's birthday this week as well, so perhaps she'd pop over to his and give him his present.

 _Yes_ , she though. _That'd be a good idea and that'll keep me out of the house for a good few hours_.

As she left the house, locking up and walking purposefully away, she wondered whether to apparate somewhere or just walk.

She decided to walk. Walking was good. Walking had purpose and gave her space to breath. Using a charm she'd used regularly, she created an invisible bubble of space around herself that filled with music that only she could hear. As she walked, she'd feel her anger rise and her hands would ball into fists, her feet pounding along the pavement whilst she muttered to herself. She'd concentrate on her music to calm her and reduce her blood pressure. Similarly, she would become sad and teary, unbelieving of how she had gotten herself into this situation, shouting out her frustrations and heartache to the world. The music would stop those thoughts before they swallowed her whole, the songwords distracting her. For hours her mood swung between anger, hate, depression, self-pity, frustration, her mind going round in circles for hours. From time to time she would collapse onto a park bench, her head dropping into her hands, only for her mind to tell her to get a grip and quit feeling sorry for herself. Other times she would kick out as she passed a lamp post or a road sign, other times she would mutter loudly, pounding the heel of her palm to her forehead, trying to push the emotions as far away as possible.

It was sometime later that she realised she was still walking. She'd stopped to take pictures over the city as the sun had been setting - her way of finding beauty in a painful day, but now it was dark and she didn't have any idea where she was. Her mind had calmed significantly, and she began to realise that it was a bit colder now- the chill starting to seep through her thin jacket. Carefully fingering her wand by her side, she whispered the 'four point' spell to get her bearings, but as she did this she felt a heavy hand round her mouth as she was roughly shoved against a tree, her wand falling from her grasp and lying unnoticed several paces behind the men who had appeared. 'What? No my-' but her words were halted as she felt her camera and her handbag being torn away from her at the same time as a fist came flying at her face. She tried to fight back, clutching in mid-air trying to reach for her bag, but the more she fought, the harder they kicked, the more she shouted, the more their fists made contact with her face.

Minutes later she was lying on the ground clutching her stomach, her face bloody, her head splitting with pain and all her belongings gone. Her camera, Harry's present, her books, wallet, keys and her precious diary!

Hermione looked around desperately for her wand and saw it lying precariously over the edge of the pavement. She struggled to stand up, but once she was up she found that she was able to balance ok and was able to reach down and grab her wand. Quickly she did the 4 point spell again and began stumbling East. There was no way she could apparate home at this moment, if she did, she fully believed her head would split open. So she walked. Stumbling along, using her wand as regularly as possible to keep her orientated. When she felt strong enough to apparate home she did. However, it was not her own home that came into her mind just as that pulling sensation began behind her nose. No more than a moment later, she appeared in the dark silence of Ron's bedroom with a deafening crack and sank to the floor, her mind going blank as she passed out.

Ron was on his new broomstick, flying high above the streets laughing and calling out to the person in front of him. Hermione pulled away, just out of reach, her soft laughter drifting back to him as he tried to catch her. Her hair billowed in the wind, the sun shining so brightly that he could not see her clearly. He looked down at his socks, suddenly realising he'd forgotten to put his shoes on and he was wearing his pyjama trousers. Just below his feet he could see a small black dot, getting closer and closer to him, shooting up from the ground at an incredible rate. It turned out to be a chess piece that had black hair and sounded like Neville. He couldn't hear what the chess piece was trying to say to him, but as he leaned in more, he noticed the widening gap between Hermione and himself. But he was desperate to hear what the Bishop had to say and so leaned in ever so slightly more. At the same time as he heard one word uttered by the Bishop 'Ron', he heard a loud crack and as he looked up, he saw a figure high above him, falling through the air.

'Hermione!' Ron shouted as he suddenly sat up in his bed, his eyes wide, the memory of the falling girl playing before his eyes. For years Ron had been plagued by dreams of his friends being hurt in one way or another. He'd experienced so much since he had met Harry Potter that he had never been surprised by the regular appearance of fear in his dreams, of friends being in danger from black hooded garden gnomes, throttling plants, cursed knitting needles, falling from the sky and so on. However, recently he'd been free of these dreams and he certainly never woke up feeling like he'd really heard the crack of a broomstick as it plummeted it's rider to earth.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to clear his mind and steady his heart. He lay back down gently, his arm resting over his eyes as he gave a huge yawn.

Trying to will himself back to sleep, he forced his brain to think of something else, of the quidditch match he watched earlier - no, that made him picture Hermione falling fast onto the pitch. The dinner he was going to for Harry's birthday next week - no, he just saw Hermione face down on the table, limbs splayed carelessly. He pictured standing in his living room, looking out over the street, watching the sunset - no, all he could see was Hermione's falling body repeatedly dropping in and out of view.

Irritated by this vivid image, Ron groaned loudly and hit out at the clock on his side table. 1am? Ron thought. He'd only been asleep an hour? Using his deluminator, he released a single glowing ball into the small room, eyes closed tight against the harsh light. As he slowly opened them, his gazed fixed immediately on a crumpled heap of... Something that was just inside the bedroom door. As his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he took a sharp breath inward and heard himself repeat that which he'd said just minutes ago. 'Hermione!'

He jumped out, instantly moving from the warmth of the bed to her side, grasping at her cold arm and shaking her, yelling for her to talk to him. When there was no response, he easily lifted her limp body and carefully placed her down on the bed, lying her out so that she was comfortable. He gently pushed her hair out of her face and took another shape breath as he realised her hair was sticking to her temples, matted with drying blood, a patch of colour appearing just below her left eye as if she'd just been hit hard by something that would result in a bruise. 'Hermione' Ron groaned. 'What the devil has happened? Why won't you say something? How did you get here? Where's Matthew? Hermione!' Ron's voice grew more and more desperate as he shook the body lying dead still in front of him.

'R- R- Ron?' Hermione stuttered, her eyes fluttering open, her head falling to one side as she sought out the voice coming from through the darkness. Slowly he came into view, her vision clearing, and she saw him leaning over her protectively, his torso bare, the chest heaving, his breath coming thick and fast.

'Hermione!' Ron repeated. 'Merlin's beard you scared me then. What has happened to you? Why are you here?'

Hermione closed her eyes, just as confused as Ron as to why she was here, with her best friend towering over her. She tried to sit up and instantly groaned in pain, clutching her side as the physical pain came crashing over her once again and the memories from the past few hours caused her to close her eyes tightly, her head shaking violently. 'No no no' she uttered, tears welling up inside, her breathing becoming more and more erratic. It hadn't happened she thought desperately. Her life had NOT just been turned upside down within in a matter of hours. The pain was NOT hers. It couldn't be! How could it? There's no way she would have allowed her life to be so utterly ruined without any warning. And suddenly she heard herself sobbing, her body tensing against the pain, her head shaking, trying to convince herself that it was not her.

Ron's eyes widened as she began to shake, loud sobs erupting from her frail looking body her fists clenched so tight that they turned whiter than snow. All Ron could do was grasp her hand, smooth her hair and whisper awkwardly, desperately trying to sooth her, questions whizzing round his head a million miles a second but not daring to voice them again.

'Hermione you're safe now. I'm here. I've got you Hermione. Shhh. Shh. Nothing's going to happen to you now, you're safe.' Ron had no idea what he was saying or if she could even hear him. He was scared and appalled and confused and worried all at the same time. His mother had always said that a cup of tea is the answer to most problems and he wondered if he should go and put the kettle on and give her some space to cry herself out. He began to pull away but her grip tightened on his hand, stopping him from moving. ''Mione I'm right here. I'm just going to get you a drink and something to wash your face with. I'm not going to leave you - you're alright I promise. I'll be back before you can say wizard's chess.'

Her grip loosened slightly which Ron took as a gesture of approval. He set about getting something together to wash the blood off her face whilst the kettle hovered over the fire, the water slowly boiling.

Whilst he was out of the room, Hermione looked around, a feeling of safety filling her. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, ashamed of letting her emotions overcome her like that in front of Ron. _Oh Ron_ she thought. If only you knew. She'd missed him so much. Missed talking to him, laughing with him - even arguing with him. Ron always made her feel grounded and safe, no matter how much they argued. It was strange to think she was in Ron's bedroom, on his bed - his personal items surrounding her. It'd been so long since those days at the Burrow when she'd gone in and out of his bedroom, doing homework, catching up, planning...

He returned with cups of tea for both himself and Hermione and noticed that she'd shifted enough that she was sitting up, ready for a drink. Whilst she drank, he carefully cleaned the blood off her face, noticing that her lip and her right eyebrow were split and her right eye was bruising slowly, but otherwise her facial injuries were not as bad as they'd first appeared.

'Will you tell me what's happened Hermione? Where's Matthew?'

'I don't want to talk about it just yet Ron. I just want to be asleep. I'd have gone home but my keys were stolen, and Matthew is no-' Hermione paused, a look of pain in her eyes that Ron only glimpsed before she continued in a much more positive tone. 'Matthew isn't at home right now, he went away earlier and isn't due back for a few days.' She stated matter of factly.

Ron raised his eyebrow but said nothing. He was just grateful that she'd come to him. They hadn't been talking much for some time. Ron had not liked Matthew from the start - he'd been quite off handed to Hermione's friends and he'd gotten the impression more than once that Hermione had given up time with her own friends because Matthew valued his group of peers more highly. But then again, who could blame them. There had been so much bad press about the trio and other ministry folk during the war and even afterwards the papers had not been much better, making out that they had had more of a part in Voldemort's demise than they really had yet still using Harry and his friends as targets for any negative comments. And Matthew worked for the newspaper, so he and Ron were never going to see eye to eye.

He'd once believed that he and Hermione would finally get together, but his timing always sucked and by the time he was ready to be completely open with her, she had started dating Matthew. He never believed they would last long so he'd bided his time. Yet they'd stayed together and Ron's opportunity to tell Hermione how he felt had passed. Ron stopped going over to her's when Matthew moved in. He just couldn't put himself in that position. It was too difficult watching her play house with someone else, and Hermione hadn't been to Ron's more than a handful of times ever. Thus, the reason for their distancing relationship. So for Hermione to come here now, was quite surprising to him, but he wasn't going to say that to her.

'Get some sleep 'Mione. I'll wake you when I'm ready for breakfast!' Ron joked. He got up from the bed, moving the bowl of water and the mugs out of the way whilst Hermione settled into the bed again. Almost as soon as she'd gotten comfortable she appeared to fall asleep, breathing softly, her bushy hair covering the pillow. Ron watched her for a short while, just grateful to be needed by her again. He studied her, the bruising around her eye much more defined than when she first appeared, her eyebrows furrowing as she slept as if she was concentrating on a difficult task, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. It was at this point that he noticed the state of her clothes, muddied and bloody and he wondered if he should change her. He was sure that in the magical meledies book he had, there was a chapter on simple ways to tend a wounded patient. He gently pulled it off the bookshelf and found the section he had been thinking of.

 _Vestimentis Mutatoriis Amoveo:_

 _Ves-tee-MEN-tis moo-tah-TOR-ris a-MOO-veo;  
Take your wand, hover it about the item of clothing and flick away.  
Use this spell in order to remove the patients clothes if needed. Do this for every item of clothing you need to remove. It should only be used to remove a section of clothing that is covering an area that needs immediate medical attention. The Amoveo charm can be used to remove clothes only with the consent of the recipient (they must be thinking/saying the same spell at the same time). Otherwise this spell will only cause the recipient to change from one outfit to another. This can be done whilst the other person is aware as well as when they are in an unconscious state. Recommended spell if someone has been injured with open wounds. Changing the clothes is the first step towards a more hygienic environment in which to care for your patient._

The book carried on with more hints and tips on how best to care for an injured or sick person in your own home, but he'd found the bit he'd wanted. His mother had talked him through this many years ago, before he and Ginny had gone to Hogwarts - Gin had hit a tree with her broomstick during a particularly aggressive 1 on 1 quidditch game on a wet winter's afternoon and then had collapsed on top of a gnome that had sunk it's teeth into her shoulder blade in anger at being squashed by a small human. His mom had shown him a simple way to look after her before finding out if a medic was needed.

Ron quickly found one of his mother's knitted Weasley jumpers and a pair of trousers he sometimes wore to bed, and laid them beside the sleeping figure. Saying the spell, the neatly placed pile of clean clothes was replaced by a heap which were her own clothes.

10 minutes later, he'd enchanted the clothes to wash themselves and was just finishing a letter to his dad.

Dad,

Something's happened. Hermione's just shown up and it looks like she's been hurt - mugged it appears although there's something she's not telling me. I won't be at work tomorrow so can you make sure to let them know in the office? And I'm sure Hermione's in for a meeting with the minister tomorrow or sometime in the next few days but I should think it'd be good to postpone that. I'll send Pig to her office as well.

Can you get Mum to bring over some chicken soup and Hermione's spare keys tomorrow dinner time?

Thanks dad. Oh and don't let mum treat Pig, he's getting to expect more treats than he should be eating!

Ron.

It was now 2.30am and Ron was shattered. He thought about summoning the trundle bed but he'd already sat down on the sofa and his body would no longer respond - refusing to do anything else without sleep. Before he knew it, he was stretched out on the sofa, snoring quietly dreaming of Quidditch and Hermione and cheese and...

'Ron!' Hermione woke with a start. The room was pitch black, her eyes unable to make out anything in her surroundings. Instantly memories from the previous night flooded her mind. Matthew's voice floated in and out. 'You're holding me back, I have so many ambitions and all you do is make me feel old and like I shouldn't try new things.' 'The war wouldn't have gotten to such a crux had you and your friend Potter just helped the ministry. You and Weasley and Potter probably made things worse by not cooperating.' 'I know you'd hired a lady to come and help out around the house due to our busy work schedules, but she talked so much that I fired her. I got us a house elf instead. They are much more obedient and all the money we'll save will go towards a new broom, which of course you'll be able to use as well.'

The sudden movement of jumping out of bed caused Hermione to pause for a moment, her eyes squeezed shut as a wave of nausea passed due to the pain in her ribs. As the pain settled, she opened her eyes and moved much more carefully. Throwing her arms out in front of her, she tiptoed towards the door, unsure if her path was clear. This room was too dark for her. She felt like she was in a box with no escape, just her own imagination to comfort her. She needed to breath. She needed to know that someone else was near. She needed to see that no one was creeping up on her. It surprised Hermione just how much she had been affected by a mugging. She'd always thought of herself as a strong woman. She had after all, helped to bring about the downfall of Voldemort after years of terrifying experiences since the age of 11. She supposed her state of mind had been a bit clouded when it had happened which meant that she was not really at the top of her game. Sadness filled her as she remembered what Professor Moody had repeated again and again. 'Constant vigilance.' She knew he'd say that to her now if he was still here and could see what had happened to her.

Leaving the room, she entered the living room, the moonlight streaming in through the open curtains, the sounds of the trees swaying in the breeze coming through the slightly opened window. Looking round Hermione wondered where Ron had gone. Looking out the window, allowing herself to relax, to feel like she'd escaped the feelings of claustrophobia, she took in the view. Ron lived in a small flat, the building shared with about 15 other wizards, at the top of a hill overlooking wide open fields. She knew he loved this space because he was close to the Muggle world which he was slowly getting to know better, but there was also space to play quidditch with other residents, the location charmed to look like a dilapidated farm building to non-magical folk, with a private property sign half way up the hill. In fact, the building was originally a muggle built farm house that was bought by a wizarding family along with the rest of the farm. Over the years, the building had become magically enlarged, more sections added until recently when it was converted into separate flats, all fully magically equipped with fireplaces and such. Ron had bought his flat, one of the first to move into the building, and had even taken to helping out on the farm in his spare time. Of course, this farm was run magically so things got done fine if he didn't help, however he enjoyed the freedom from office life by helping with manual labour, rarely using his magic to perform a task, instead enjoying be outside and doing something manual.

Hermione turned as she heard a snore from behind her. Ron was sprawled out on the sofa, no blanket to cover him, his bare chest visibly rising and falling. Hermione quietly walked over to him and considered waking him, but instead she gathered some cushions, summoning the pillows from the bed and sat down, her back against the sofa. She wasn't sure how long she sat there for, just watching Ron sleeping and wondering what could have happened had her and Matthew never gotten together. There were times when she'd believed Ron might return the feelings she had for him, but he'd never said anything. He'd always disliked Matthew, telling her things he'd said that she hadn't believed. Until recently, she thought wistfully. She fell asleep to the sounds of Ron's breathing, feeling more at home and at ease than she'd felt in months.

Ron woke the following morning as the sun burned brightly through the window, warming his face. He sat up and stretched, yawning widely wondering what the time was. He was grateful to think that he had a day off today, he'd love to sit out in the garden and read his quidditch magazine, but then again, his day off was not really for that, rather because of whatever craziness Hermione had been through the previous day. He was about to swing his legs off the sofa when he noticed the bushy mass of hair on the floor next to the sofa. He hadn't noticed her at first, and he wondered why she was there and not in bed

'Hermione?' He asked quietly to see if she was awake.

'Hm' came a quiet muttered response from somewhere below the bush of hair. 'I'm not awake. It's far too cosy and warm for me to want to move or be awake yet.' She continued, the sounds of a yawn escaping her as she finished her sentence.

Ron laughed at her response. Man he'd missed her. 'Hermione, pray tell, why are you sleeping on the floor of my living room when you were sleeping in a perfectly comfortable bed not too long ago?'

In reply Hermione burrowed deeper into cushions she had used to make her 'bed'. She wasn't going to tell him that she needed him near just to feel safe, that she felt that she might lose control if she didn't know he was by her side.

'I couldn't sleep.' She stated matter of factly. After a moment, she added in a much quieter tone 'it was too dark. All I could hear were Matthew's last remarks and all I could see was his face-' Ron's eyes softened. Now he was sure something had happened with Matthew. She'd not specifically said they'd argued but she'd not mention him if something hadn't happened.

Hermione realised what she'd said and stopped short, closing her eyes waiting for the questions from Ron. She hadn't meant to say it. In fact, she'd realised what she was saying just before she finished her train of thought. But then she wondered why she worried so much. She'd shown up here after all - this being the first place she wanted to be after Matthew's dramatic exit and after being taken by surprise by a bunch of muggles who wouldn't normally have gotten the better of her. Today, she decided, she was going to be brutally honest. 'I woke up and you weren't there. It was so dark and so quiet, and I couldn't stop my mind and you weren't there.'

Ron was thankful that Hermione couldn't see his face. He was pretty sure the tips of his ears had begun to turn red. He'd had no idea that that was how she was feeling, and without meaning to, a small smile played across his lips. She needed him. It'd been so long since she'd needed him.

'Mione-' Ron started, but Hermione sat up and interrupted him. 'It's fine Ron. I know I was being silly but I'm ok now. In fact, why are we not already up and eating breakfast?' She asked jokingly, still not ready to face the truth about the turn in her life. She just wanted everything to feel normal for a little bit longer.

'What time is it anyway?'

'11.25am' Ron replied glancing at his watch whilst yawning again.

'11am? But Ron! You should be at work! Oh no! I should be at work!' Hermione bounded out of her makeshift bed, her eyes watering slightly as she whacked the coffee table in her haste. 'I have a meeting today with the minister and Everitt wanted the work updates owled to him before lunch and-... What? Why are you looking at me like that?'

Ron was watching her with a bemused expression on his face. This was his Mione. She was back with him at last. 'I missed you Hermione Granger.' Hermione stared. 'Wha- How is- Are you- huh?' Hermione spluttered so taken aback by his random remark that had nothing to do with what she had just been saying.

'It's ok, I've taken care of it all. I've owled to say neither of us would be at our jobs today, dad is going to talk to the minister about postponing your meeting and as for Everitt, well, can he wait?'

'Oh' Hermione didn't know what else to say. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised about his organisation as he was now in fact a grown man who had been living a responsible working man's job for the past three years - but she just wasn't use to this side of Ron. Shaking her head slightly she tried to think of more reasons they shouldn't still be 'in bed' at 11am but all that came out was 'oh' again.

This was enough for Ron. He knew she was surprised. Of course, he'd given her plenty of reason to see him as irresponsible and lazy during school and in the four years since the battle, they'd seen each other less and less. He openly laughed at her goldfish reactions. 'Now that you are awake, don't expect me to organise anything else! That's you're specialty! I'm just happy for an excuse for a day off! Plus, it's the weekend tomorrow so no more work for 3 days! Thanks Hermione-' Ron suddenly realised what he'd said, thanking Hermione for her pain in order for him to skive off of work _. Oh good going Ron_ , he thought to himself. Now she'll never feel like she can talk to you about what happened.

Hermione however obviously hadn't heard it that way. She was now laughing herself, her face relaxed into a bright smile and her problems momentarily forgotten. She dropped on to the sofa next to Ron, putting her head on his shoulder and linking her arm through his. 'I missed you too Ronald Weasley!'

It was a few hours since they'd had breakfast. Ron was currently in the shower after having had a long conversation with a colleague's head in the fireplace. He may not be at work, but the short notice had meant that there were a few complications to iron out. Hermione had said it was fine, she hadn't expected him to miss work at all. In fact, it'd been nice to watch him from the corner of the room being so business like and grown up. She'd had to shake herself out of her daze a couple of times as she stared at him, taking in this new Ron she'd so rarely met.

Ron had finished up the conversation with a good 15-minute chat about the Canon's game last night which made Hermione smile. In the meantime, she had busied herself anyway she could. Ron didn't have many books that she hadn't already read, so she got to tidying. First she did all the washing up and wiped down all the work surfaces. When she started to put things away, she found herself straightening out the cupboards. She had dropped some food on the floor so had found the brush, resulting in a well swept floor all over. Whilst she was sweeping, she felt she might as well carry on out into the living room and then into the bedroom. She could have done it all magically, but the thought never occurred to her. Obviously whilst sweeping up, she got side-tracked with straightening up the bookshelves and dusting, picking up magazines from the floor, finding dirty plates here and there... At some point she heard Ron calling from the other room saying something about a shower, but by that point she was so busy keeping busy that she didn't really notice his absence. She realised she was far too warm and was in the process of removing her jumper, only then noticing herself in Ron's clothes. And that she wasn't wearing anything under the jumper. She wondered when he'd changed her because she was sure she didn't remember getting herself changed. At this thought she felt herself blushing - How had he changed her clothes? If he'd changed her, that meant he'd... Seen her. It was whilst she stood there in the middle of the room, gaping slightly, broom in hand, eyes wide, that Ron watched her quietly.

'Hermione?' He asked, eyebrows lifted. 'Are you... Are you ok?' He had seen the bruising on her ribs just before she realised she shouldn't take the jumper off and once again he was pulled back to that place of worry and confusion.

'My clothes.' Hermione replied, eyes still unfocused as she fumbled with the bottom of the jumper absentmindedly.

'Your..? Oh your clothes. They are hanging up. They may even be dry by now. I washed them last-'

'I'm in your clothes.'

'Yes? Hermione are you ok? Yours needed washing so I cleaned them last night. Should I not have done that?'

'You took my clothes... Away?' At that, it hit Ron what she was so worried about!

'I didn't... Ya know... See anything Mione! I used the Vestimentis Mutatoriis charm to.. Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry! I should have asked but you were asleep. Mum always taught us how to do first aid and the vestimentis mutatoriis charm was always one of the things she told us was good to remember.' Ron was mortified. She had truly thought that he'd actually seen her at her most vulnerable without her consent. It hadn't even occurred to him that she might take it that way.

'I promise Hermione. In fact I've only just seen how bruised your ribs are when you-' again he felt his ears go red. He was just about to prove he'd been watching her when she'd half stripped accidentally.

'I.. Um.. You... Err... I ran you a bath.' he finished quickly trying to move the conversation onto something else.

'A bath?' Hermione looked at him confused.

'Yes Hermione. A bath. You need to relax in a bath with a large glass of wine and let me know how bad the rest of your wounds are. You need to stop tidying my house for me and look after yourself! Mum will be popping round soon with her chicken soup which is a must have when you're not feeling well and then you need to talk to me and tell what the heck has happened - about you and Matthew about how you ended up covered in blood and why you ended up collapsed on my bedroom for at 1 bloody O'clock in the morning!'

'Oh' Hermione said in reply, balancing the broom up against the wall behind her. 'Thank you Ron. I'd love a bath.'

'Yes well. I'll just go get you a glass of muggle wine then. The bath should be ready in a few minutes. Everything you'll need is on the shelf beside the bath.'

An hour later Hermione was clean and fresh, her own clothes back on although she was wearing Ron's socks - a well worn pair that she'd given him for his birthday last year that had owls on. Her hair was washed and pulled back, she had a mug of coffee and was back on the sofa waiting for Ron.

It was already 4pm and Hermione had asked if she should start on some dinner, but Ron had said Mrs Weasley had dropped off some chicken soup whilst she was in the bath. He had gone out quickly to buy some milk, butterbeer and a few extra groceries so they had something to eat on the weekend. She also asked him to ask in the apothecary for some salve for bruising.

A loud crack announced Ron's return, appearing in the lounge in his cloak, bags in hand.

'Dinner time!' He announced straight away, moving quickly into the kitchen to put down his things. Hermione followed, pointing her wand at the cauldron of chicken soup muttering a quiet spell under her breath. The soup soon began to bubble as it boiled and Hermione served the soup as Ron made a couple mugs of tea.

In typical Ron fashion, he wolfed down his soup and helped himself to another bowl before Hermione was even half way through hers. She shook her head, laughing at his apparent haste to eat and he returned that with a big grin between spoonfuls. Hermione liked this. Matthew had lived with her for 6 months and they had rarely had a proper meal together. They had made the effort to sit down occasionally, make a fancy meal with wine, candles and flowers but that was the only time they had really eaten together. He was out an hour before her so ate breakfast at work. He was home before her but never cooked and normally she was so exhausted when she got home that they'd have something light and easy to make, her eating at the dining room table whilst pouring over her books, him in the office writing or eating whilst talking to a head in the fire. Either way, dinner had normally been considered work time. Had Matthew sometimes cooked for when Hermione came home, they would have had time to sit together and chat before getting back into work mode. Except on Thursdays. Thursdays were days where they ate in the lounge, listening to the quidditch.

'Why are you looking at me like that Hermione?' Ron asked as he cleared away the dishes. Hermione had gone quiet, looking in his direction but eyes unfocused, a smile on her lips.

'We never did this. Matthew and I. We didn't spend the day around the house just enjoying each other's company. We didn't wake up late on a weekday or weekend or spend ages just talking about nothing. We didn't eat together. Thursdays are the only days we actually stay in the same room whilst eating- they were the only days...'

Ron took hold of Hermione's hand, pulling her gently out of her seat and guiding her towards the sofa. When they sat down, he simply said 'tell me.' And Hermione did. She told him how he was right about who Matthew was - how he thought they should have stuck with the ministry during that year, that although they had been together for three years she realised that they only ever did what he wanted to do, only went out for his work dos and had completely ignored anyone he didn't like.

'He was such a gentleman around me that I just ignored everything other people said about him. I focused so hard on the idea of a normal relationship and life that was easy and predictable that I tuned out the stupidity of the situation. I thought I was so in love with him, and yet now I think if it, I didn't even notice that he's barely been around for the past few weeks. He must have been with her...'

'Her?' Ron questioned quietly.

'Someone he met at the pub apparently. She is going on a long term business trip to Egypt and he's going with her! Going to be a foreign correspondent for the newspaper for a few months apparently.'

'That great lump of thestral dung! He is more of a bloody idiot than I ever gave him credit for-'

'No Ron. Don't. Please. ' Hermione said softly, putting her hand on top of his as a plea for him to calm down. 'He's gone, it broke my heart, I thought my life was shattered. I didn't know how to feel or think so I went out. For hours I walked around in a daze, trying to convince myself that nothing had happened, that I was just so stressed and had a bad dream. I thought about everything so much, trying to decide what I'd done wrong, what I would do next. I was sad, then angry with myself for being in that situation. I'd shake with anger at Matthew for using me, then at myself for letting him use me. I began to feel ashamed of myself for not trying harder to keep seeing you guys, of how I let you slip away from me at a time when we still needed each other so much. I began to realise how involved I'd gotten myself at work, leaving little time for myself let alone a relationship. It was at that point that I had realised I wasn't upset at Matthew for leaving me, just upset that I'd wasted so much time on him when I could have been with-' She paused closing her eyes and shaking her head very slightly. Biting her lip, she took another deep breath and carried on, more composed than before.

'That's when I got mugged. Some muggles took me by surprise just as I was about to use my wand. It was knocked from my hand instantly and by the time I realised what was happening everything had gone - books, camera, Harry's present, my diary...' Thinking of her diary she shivered at the thought of some stranger reading it. Hearing her inner most thoughts and fears. Her scathing remarks, her silent pleas, her secret truths and her exaggerated problems. Thankfully she had put a locking charm on it, so they'd think it was an empty notebook that had a habit of not staying open.

'Really they got nothing. My diary will appear like an old, unused scrapbook, my money like some stage props, my camera is charmed so they'll soon give up with that. I'll have to buy Harry a new present but that's fine.'

Despite himself, Ron laughed, only laughing harder when Hermione looked up at him questioningly.

'Those poor blokes! They go to all the trouble of mugging you and when they look through it all, they'd probably think you were bloody mental, carrying around so much junk!' Ron thought it was hilarious and laughed more as he pictured their faces.

'Bloody serves them right, the gits!' He mumbled as his laughter died slowly. Hermione had been watching him with a smile, agreeing with him. she'd love to have seen their faces when they realised there was nothing apparently valuable in there for them. They probably thought the money was from some special edition version of monopoly and she groaned as she realised she had been to the bank yesterday. Having taken money out for bills that she normally paid today and the trip to diagon alley she'd planned for tomorrow so as to buy some new books. Oh well, worse things could happen she supposed. She'd tell Mr Weasley and ask him to keep an eye out for any word about her belongings.

'The thing I'm most upset about is my diary.' she said calmly. 'I've had that since I went to Hogwarts. It's got everything in. I wrote about everything we ever did, about how it felt to attend Hogwarts and begin to learn magic, about all the ups and downs through school, about missing my parents and about friendships throughout school. I wrote stories and poems, ideas for spells and potions I'd like to try and make, my most prized photos are in there including that one Ginny took of the 2 of us in Grimmauld place after 5th year. Remember, when that awful candle decided to spit fiery darts at everyone and your hair caught fire?'

Hermione smiled as she looked past Ron's shoulder remembering how they had been cleaning the dining room and dodging flames whilst Fred and George tried to stun the candle. Just before they'd managed to melt it down to a pile of harmless hard wax, it had shot one last flame in Ron's direction. Nobody had noticed at first, not even Ron, but Hermione turned to find the smell and jumped on Ron, hitting at the flames in his hair to put them out before he incurred serious burn injuries. That was the moment Ginny took the picture.

'Ah yes, the moment you started slapping me on the head! I thought you were doing some sort of tribal dance at first, jumping up on the table like that, then throwing yourself at me like you-' He'd almost said he had thought she was about to kiss him, but then realised who he was talking to.

'Um, like you um thought I was a book on fire or something!' Ron finished lamely, absentmindedly playing with the patch of hair that had been on fire so many years ago.

'If you hadn't realised your own hair was on fire then you deserve a few knocks on the head!'

'You'd not lived with Forge long enough to become accustomed to the stench of burning, evidently!' He replied, poking her accusingly as he said it.

For a few minutes they were silent, Hermione thinking back to those days, Ron watching Hermione. He thought about what she'd said about her diary and wished he could do something. If he could just get his hands on those mutts he'd give them what for. Hermione might have been keeping her distance, unintentionally or otherwise, but Ron had always followed Hermione's career and kept up with what was happening in her life. She had written multiple editorials for the daily prophet as well as other foreign newspapers. He'd kept them all. He knew where she went running and would sometimes sit in the park with a sandwich and his work, waiting to just watch her running around the lake. He always willed her to notice him, but she never did. He'd never interrupted her as she'd always appear so stressed and in need of her alone time. Last year she'd written a book - a short book about the liberation of house elves - mostly just a book full of research and evidence as part of her E.A.R.S - Educational Advance Research Studies. He'd preordered it just so he could read it anytime he missed Hermione's voice. He'd even become friends with her parents, meeting them properly at a conference that Hermione had been intending to attend and had invited her parents to, only to be absent for all but the first half hour. They'd talked all evening, Hermione had asked him to keep them company if she was gone for too long as they were in a room full of strangers and strange talk. He knew there had been a foreign correspondence conference on the same evening and he now wondered if Matthew had monopolised her for the evening. After that evening the Grangers had come to the Burrow for dinner at least once a month- the 2 dads got on very well and the mothers would cook together, filling each other in on their different lives. Ron had taken Mr Granger to a Quidditch game whilst Mr Granger took Ron to a football match and then a Rugby game which they had both preferred. Mr Weasley had even been given a ticket to the Formula 1 in Silverstone by the Grangers as a Christmas present last year.

Even with all this, he'd never pried about her relationship, so angry with himself for letting her get away, and he was angry with himself for not being there for her more.

Standing up, he once again pulled her up out of the seat and enveloped her in a hug.

'I'm so sorry I didn't notice how bad things were. I can't believe how much of a bloody miserable friend I have been - I just got so annoyed that you'd believe him over me. That you picked him instead of-, it was Krum all over again and I was- I was...jealous. I was jealous that he got to share your accomplishments with you, that he got to be the first person to give you a hug and tell you how proud he was. That he got to go to parties with you or make fun of you for a book you'd not put down for 100 hours! And then you told us he'd moved in and I always wondered why you'd be happier with him than us. Whenever I finished something that I was pleased with I'd always think about owling you just so I could let you in on my accomplishment and I'd imagine you giving me that look that says, 'did you put your heart and soul into it-everything you've got? Yes? Well then I love it!' I thought you were happy Hermione. Merlin's beard! I thought you were happy and so I bloody left you to it.'

He held her for what felt like ages and as Hermione listened to his words she began to cry. She felt Ron stiffened slightly, but he quickly relaxed, holding her tighter and stoking her hair. She buried her head in his chest, amazed that he would hold her whilst she wept. She could tell his shirt was getting wet from her tears, but it felt good to cry. To know she wasn't alone and that she hadn't been deserted. She hadn't cried like this since Ron had left Harry and herself on that night before they went to Godricks Hollow.

Despite herself, she felt herself laughing slightly, the huge lump that had been growing inside her finally released and suddenly she had no idea why she'd been so upset. It was the realisation that she had felt 10 times worse when Ron had left her than she had done last night. She had realised in that moment, that she was still well and truly in love with Ron Weasley.

Ron pulled away, his hands still loosely holding her, and lifted an eyebrow in question. 'Ok, so now we are laughing? What are we laughing about this time?' And as Hermione looked at his puzzled face with a hint of concern, she laughed harder, pulling him in again burying her face in his shoulder, feeling his warmth and feeling happier than she had in such a long time.

'I missed you Ron Weasley.' she replied quietly after her giggles had subsided. She smiled into his shoulder and resolved to tell Ron exactly how she felt about him - just as soon as she had wiped Matthew from her life for good.

 **Don't worry, There are 2 more chapters – already written but not yet proof read!  
Please do review – Good or bad - I'm chill!**


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the evening passed quite quickly. Ron had put on the wizarding wireless, soft music playing in the background whilst they sat and talked for hours laughing and crying, talking about serious things and nothing in particular. Hermione told him all about her life in the past three years and Ron told Hermione what he'd been doing. Ron was assured that Hermione still kept up to date with the quidditch whilst Ron joked about the fact that he had to do all his own reading and reports for work. Although Hermione didn't talk much about Matthew, Ron told Hermione about the two girls he'd dated for short periods of time but that he'd never felt fully able to open up to either of them. That he'd tried to find someone who he could spend the rest of his life with but that feeling was never there.  
'It's strange. During all our time at school, with Harry and Nev, you and even Luna, it felt like it could always be our group, even with Ginny there - there wasn't anything I couldn't tell you guys. You and Harry know everything about me, my family, my fears, how much of an idiot I am... How am I suppose to find that again?'  
Hermione was sitting with her feet up on the sofa. Hugging her knees loosely whilst Ron relaxed into the sofa, feet crossed and resting on the coffee table. As he said this, Hermione scooted closer to him and covered his hand in hers, letting him know she was still here for him. She found herself playing with his long fingers whilst he talked, enjoying the feel of being so close and so comfortable. Sometime later, he removed his hand from hers and put his arm around her shoulders. Pulling her into his side, she placed her head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart which she was sure was beating as fast as her own. Could he be feeling just as tingly as she was, desperate to be close just as she was? They had moved on to talk about Bill's kid, Ron telling her all about a family dinner that had happened a week ago with hilarious consequences. Whilst he talked, Ron softly stroked her shoulder, her skin feeling like silk beneath his fingers. He didn't really notice he was doing it, it just felt so natural to have her here. His finger circled a large freckle just above her elbow whilst he laughed.  
'Your feet are huge.' Hermione suddenly blurted out. She had been listening to Ron talk, her head still resting comfortably on his chest, a sense of peace filling her. Whilst he talked he had been wiggling his toes which had drawn her attention. 'I've known you since we were 11 and I've never noticed your feet before. They must be the same size as Grawp's feet! They look so weird.'  
'Weird am I!?' Ron said, faking a hurt look, wriggling his toes about more, making Hermione laugh by pointing and flexing his toes. 'Coming from the girl who was more worried about being expelled in 2nd year than getting killed!' Hermione rolled her eyes. They never forgot about her saying that.  
Hermione pushed herself up gently, playfully punching Ron in the arm. 'You're such an idiot sometimes Ronald Weasley!' Ron grabbed her hand in feigned shock, his hand covering hers, his mouth opened slightly with a 'who? me?' look. For a moment their eyes met, and her laughter died yet her smile still played across her lips. She noticed Ron's eyes flick to her lips whilst she became very aware of her own breath. Her hand was still in his, laid on his lap, his thumb just barely stroking her finger. She wondered if he would kiss her. However, he seemed to notice he was staring at her lips and quickly looked away, pulling his hand from hers and jumping up from the sofa, mumbling something about getting another cup of tea. He left the room, instead going towards the bathroom, so Hermione decided she would be the one to make some more tea.  
Ron quietly shut the door of the bathroom behind him and lent against the cool wood, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He was sometimes so sure that the feelings he had for Hermione had fizzled some in the intervening years, but spending this time with her with all the close contact, he realised he was not over her at all. In fact, he was sure it was worse. In the past year he'd met two witches. One had been like him - quick witted and relaxed. She put just enough effort into her job but would rather concentrate on having fun and experiencing life. She'd excited him at first, her idea of freedom and impulsive action such a relief to him after the years of regular schoolwork not to mention all the extra curricular stuff the trio had always managed to get themselves into. He'd felt like the entirety of his teen years had been one hard slog after another- what with essays, insane teachers, dragons, basilisks, stones, horcruxes, escaped prisoners, multiple trips to madam Pomfrey, arguments, the pains of growing up, death eaters... Even holidays had been full of angst and worry, guilt and secrets.  
A relationship that was so laid back had felt like a relief until he found himself getting bored. She didn't test him or push him to be more than he was. She missed dates because she'd forgotten, always getting caught up in the moment and getting distracted by friends and parties. She complained he was being boring when he felt like doing nothing, saying he had the rest of his life to do nothing, now was the time to fill every minute with experiences. They had only gone out for 6 months before they decided to break up- neither one being all that upset about the decision. After that he'd dated a smart girl who had come from Germany at the age of 15 when her parents had died and she'd come to live with her Uncle. Again, at first everything was fine, but quite quickly he found that she seemed to look down on him, her being so knowledgeable and him not so. She'd say things or talk about stuff that he didn't know about or understand and instead of explaining it to him or showing him, she'd just lose her patience and shake her head. But more than anything, he got to the point when he just lost interest in the things she said. She took no interest in things like quidditch and he took no interest in alchemical fractions or whatever under merlin's dotty socks she was interested in.  
And yet, here he was, one day back with Hermione and all those feelings came back. She was intelligent but not arrogantly so. She was organised but every so often would give in to impulsive action, she was talkative and quiet, bossy yet accepting. She really was his perfect girl. But had he missed his chance? There were times, like moments ago when the urge to just grab her, kiss her and hold her close was too overwhelming. They had kissed before. During the great battle. And he almost thought something was happening. But for some reason they never got anywhere.  
Stepping over to the sink and running the tap, he splashed water on his face and tiredly rubbed his eyes. He was sick of the turmoil. It was just far too difficult. He'd spent so long feeling underrated, overlooked and just plain poor, that these well known and confusing feelings were not something he wanted to revisit.

'I made you a mug of tea Ron. Did you want me to... Are you going somewhere?'  
'Um, oh yea I um I just remembered that I have to pop out and see a friend about some work stuff. Not sure how long I'll be. Feel free to stay and... Whatever.' Ron didn't know what he was saying, he just felt the need to get out and go somewhere. Anywhere but here. Normally he'd get on his broom and fly around the field, but Hermione would see him there.  
'What? What do you mean. You said that you didn't need to go anywhere until Monday.'  
Pulling his left shoe on in haste whilst spluttering feeble excuses to a confused Hermione, he snatched up his cloak and wand before striding towards the door.  
'You can't seriously be leaving? What am I meant to do here on my own?' Before he'd reached the locked door, he'd muttered 'alohamora' and reached out, roughly pulling at the handle.  
'Well, fine if you are going to be such an idiot about it all, maybe I should just go home. You clearly don't want me here.'  
Pulling it closed after him, he paused, wondering what on earth he was doing, when Hermione opened the door behind him.  
'Honestly Ron, don't be so stupid, I know something's the matter. Just come back in and-'  
But she didn't get to finish her sentence before Ron turned on the spot, that familiar tugging sensation pulling just behind the nose and he was gone. A moment later his feet landed heavily on sand, the sounds of waves crashing lazily behind him, his gaze fixed on the small cottage ahead of him. He allowed his legs to give way to his weight, dropping down into the warm sand the sun slowly setting to his right. Instantly he was reminded of the last time he'd appeared here on his own after running away from Hermione and suddenly he was ashamed of how he, yet again, handled the situation so badly. He wasn't sure why he'd come here. He knew that Bill had taken the family to the quidditch match yesterday as a start to a long weekend away. So nobody was at home for him to talk to, plus the person he really should be talking to, he'd just deserted. Closing his eyes tightly he shouted in aggravation into the surrounding silence, thumping the ground next to him before dropping his head into his hands. He was sure he could feel a head ache come on. He sat there for some minutes, forcing his mind to stop, trying not to think about what a fool he was.  
Ten minutes later his mind was calm again and he knew he had to go back, there was no point sitting here in the gathering dark allowing Hermione to believe he'd abandoned her yet again. And after he'd promised never to do that again!  
 _Go home Ron. Go home to Hermione and tell her. Just tell her how you feel._ He thought to himself. Standing up and shaking off the sand, he once again turned on the spot and a moment later was back outside his apartment. Pausing for just a second, he placed his hand on the door handle but found it locked. _That's a bit strange_ he though, performing the security spell as well as alohamora before trying the handle again. He fleetingly wondered why Hermione would have locked the front door again so quickly.  
Sheepishly he walked into his flat, the place seeming eerily quiet. The music had been turned off along with the kitchen and hallway light. There was a sliver of light coming from the lounge so Ron walked towards the partially closed door.  
'Hermione' he called softly, not wanting to scare her. 'Hermione I'm sorry, I've come back but please don't shout at me.' Stepping into the lounge he opened his mouth to apologise again only to find the room empty.  
A search of the house confirmed her disappearance, so he locked the front door and apparated to Hermione's house only to be greeted by more darkness and silence. Nobody was there, the door still locked. Once again, he disappeared into the darkness and reappeared at the Burrow, feet barely touching the ground before hurrying into the house. He was greeted cheerily by Mrs Weasley who was bustling around the kitchen humming to herself when Ron appeared at the door.  
'Oh Ron dear, what are you doing here? How is Hermione?'  
'You mean you've not seen her then?'  
'Seen who?'  
'Merlin's beard mum! Hermione of course. We had an argument… of sorts…and suddenly she was gone.' He missed out the details, not wanting to admit it was most likely his fault.  
'Oh.' Mrs Weasley looked like she wanted to say something else but evidently held back whatever her opinion was. 'Perhaps she went home.'  
'Already looked there' Ron huffed.  
'Or to her parents' house?'  
Ron hadn't thought of that. His mum was probably right. His first thought was to go to family, so why wouldn't she do the same? Man he wished Harry was at home. He could do with a talk with his other best friend right now.  
'If she did go to the Granger's house, it might be worth giving her a little time to cool off. I know what your arguments are like.' Mrs Weasley admonished before placing a large mug of tea and a plate of freshly made cookies in front of her son. 'But don't leave it too long Ron.' She continued, much more gently. 'She'll be glad to know you went after her.' With that she left the room, leaving Ron on his own in the silence. His mom was right, he would see if she'd gone home to her parents just as soon as he's drunk his tea. That would give him time to think about what he would say.

Rapping his knuckles on the Granger's front door, he stood nervously, fiddling with his wand in his back pocket. He was about to knock again when the door opened, Mrs Granger's well-trimmed figure appearing. When she saw who it was she pulled the door closed behind her and laid her hand on Ron's arm.  
'Ron' She started. 'I'm guessing you've come to see Hermione?'  
'Yes Mrs Granger. Has she talked to you? Is she here?'  
'She's here. She arrived about 10 minutes ago. What happened Ron? Why is her face covered in bruising? And I didn't think you two were talking enough at the moment to have such a huge argument. Her dad's just called Hermione's house but Matthew's not at home so he left a message. She won't talk just mentioned an argument with you...'  
Ron shock his head with a defeated attitude. 'Something's happened with Matthew and then she was mugged by some muggles. She appeared at my house hurt and upset last night.' Ron saw the look of surprise on Mrs Granger's face but carried on. 'She's not said a lot about what happened with Matthew other than him going off with some other girl or something. She was more shaken about the mugging - angry at herself for being taken unawares and not being able to defend herself. She got pretty beat up...' Ron trailed off, his mind suddenly focusing on a different time. A time when Hermione had been tortured and scared. Merlin's beard he thought. Why didn't I think of that earlier?  
'I'm so stupid. We've been up talking for hours and not once did I understand why she was more upset about the mugging than Matthew. She must have been reminded of the time when we were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor. I think that would have been the worst she was hurt when it came to the fight against Voldemort.'  
Before he knew it, Ron was being hugged by Mrs Granger, whilst she sobbed quietly in his ear. Awkwardly he patted her on the back whilst hoping she'd stop hugging him.  
'I'm sorry Ron' Mrs granger finally said shakily. 'It upsets me so much when I think about what you lot went through. I can't pretend to understand and it's hard to accept that it's not always me that will be the one to help my daughter. She came to you because she needed you. She still does- but you'll have to give her a bit of time. She won't even let us in, let alone you at the moment. Just don't go too far ok? I think she'll be ready soon.'  
Ron knew she was right but he hated to go without her knowing he was here. He quickly wrote a note and asked Mrs granger to pass it on to Hermione as soon as possible - letting her know he was an idiot and was sorry and that he needed to talk to her as soon as she wanted.

The week past slowly. Ron went back to work on the Sunday because he couldn't bare sitting around the house and was inundated with jobs due to missing work on Friday. By Monday he was all caught up and was out of the office on a business trip for the next couple of days. By Wednesday he hadn't given himself much time to worry about Hermione but as the week progressed he felt her absence more and more. On Wednesday evening he went to a chess match which he didn't win because he couldn't concentrate on the game properly. At lunchtime on Thursday he decided to pop into the Granger's dental practise and ask if they had a key for Hermione's house. He knew that she still had not gone home and he wanted to help her by starting to pack up Matthew's things.  
That evening he stood on her doorstep apprehensive and feeling a little naughty coming here without her permission. He'd known she had put an anti-break in charm on her door, but he wasn't sure if she'd put on any other protective charms which were a common way of stopping other magical folk from entering without permission.  
Either way, he wouldn't know unless he tried, so he placed the key in the keyhole and turned. The door opened easily, nothing coming at him from the darkness, there was no disembodied voices asking him for his identity, no feelings of a chill or a prick in the arm - all common ways to stop unwelcome visitors.

Ron walked around the house slowly, turning on lights as he walked around and opening a few windows to let in the coolness. He started in the kitchen - knowing he could get rid of any old food that had been left to go off. He noticed the washing up had not been done - dinner for 1 - Matthew had obviously eaten whilst packing his trunk but not cleaned up after himself. When he'd cleaned the dishes, he looked around for Crookshanks, but couldn't find him so instead he just put out some fresh food for him and although he was sure Hermione would already have done this, charmed it so it would refill each day. Although thinking about it, he was sure Crookshanks would be at the Granger's house with Hermione, but he knew that bloody cat well enough to make no assumptions!  
Not really knowing where to go next, he walked into the living room and straight away saw a few things that didn't look like they belonged to Hermione. First was a large poster of the Holyhead Harpies, the players zooming back and forth then lining up together for the team picture, names appearing along the bottom before they broke up and flew up and down the pitch again. On the shelf just below the poster were hideous carvings he knew were Mathew's. He heard him bragging about them once. The sofa had a cushion with Matthew's name on it which he removed and there was a stack of magazines which he knew Hermione wouldn't read, although there were a few he'd not read himself and he thought he'd take them home with him.  
After an hour in the living room, he couldn't find anything else that was obviously not Hermione's and had started in the bathroom. Thankfully, being the organised girl Hermione always was, their things had been sorted separately in the cupboard above the sink, so the bathroom was Matthew free within a few minutes. Lastly there were 2 bedrooms. He started with the one he knew not to be Hermione's and found most of Matthew's belongings. There was a bed in here but whether he slept in here or in Hermione's room he wasn't sure. He spent the rest of the evening not so carefully boxing items whilst clothes flew off hangers and folded themselves in mid-air before landing neatly in a pile on the bed.

Deciding he'd had enough packing for the night and knowing he had an early start tomorrow he walked out of the room and paused in front of Hermione's bedroom door. On the door there was a photo from 6th year of the trio laughing with Luna, Neville and Ginny. It was taken at the start of the summer out by the lake. Taken before they knew how horrendously the year was going to finish.  
He knew he should just leave Hermione's room to her, but he had not grown out of his extremely nosy habits and so without further pause, slowly pushed her door open. The room was bathed in light from the disappearing sun a small single bed in the corner behind the door, a desk half under the window, leaving space to climb onto the window sill to sit and read on some large cushions. There was a large bookshelf full of books and a tiny vanity shelf that had a small mirror. It was simply decorated, tidy and had photos spilling from the unused surfaces. He wondered if a lot of these photos had once been around the house but had been moved in here when Matthew arrived as he hadn't seen many other photos in other rooms that were personal to Hermione. Sitting down on the floor, back against the bed, he stayed for quite some time, lost in memories and willing Hermione to come and find him there. Eventually he exited the house, locking the door behind him and disapperating back home.

Two more weeks passed with no more word from Hermione. Ron had given back her keys and yet again asked her parents to let her know that he had come to see her. He had been every couple of days, however Hermione was always either still at work or refused to see him. He really didn't understand why she was being so stubborn however Mrs Granger kept telling him that he mustn't take it too personally - she wasn't talking to them either, yet as far as they were aware she didn't appear greatly upset - just stubbornly ignoring the fact that there was a problem.  
'I don't think even she knows why she's being so stubborn.' Was Mrs Granger's rather resigned opinion.  
This cheered up Ron slightly - knowing she wasn't crying constantly was reassuring.

It was the end of another week and Ron was late finishing work. It had been such a long week with so much going on and today had dragged and dragged and dragged. He'd been writing reports and answering messages that had been owled in thick and fast. It was 7.20pm before he left the office. Stanley had asked if he'd wanted to go to the Leaky Cauldren for a pint, but Ron was shattered. He just wanted to go home and watch the quidditch that he had missed yesterday. He'd begun having special omnioculars sent to him each week so that instead of having to listen on the wireless, he was able to watch the match, with or without commentary and with as many points of view as he wanted. It meant he didn't always listen to it live, but it was a great way to see new plays for him to put into practise in his own quidditch team for the Compound Championships - basically a team made up of people who lived in these flats against other teams who lived in similar non muggle accommodations around London.

Apparating back into his house, he appeared in the kitchen - right next to the cauldron intending to get water ready for making a cup of strong coffee as soon as he touched ground. As he got a flame going beneath the cauldron he realised the clock that his mom had given him was indicating that someone was outside his front door. Lazily dropping his bag on the floor in the hallway and flicking off his shoes, he made his way to the front door, opening it and expecting to see Phillip - his neighbour. Instead he saw nobody. The clock didn't tell him how long someone would have been standing at the door, but it had never stayed on that option when that person left. He was just closing the door when he noticed a flash of colour on the floor. Looking properly, he realised it was a bag and that Hermione was curled up on a comfortable looking bench that had never been there before, which was positioned to the right of his front door in the corner, which was why he had not seen her at all to begin with. There was a book open in front of her, however she appeared to have fallen asleep.  
'Hermione?' Ron gently spoke as he shuffled over to her, crouching down, he softly placed his hand on her arm and repeating her name, he shook her slightly to wake her up.  
Opening her eyes, Hermione didn't move straight away.  
'You're home.'  
'Yea, I just got back about two minutes ago. How long have you been here for Hermione?'  
'A while.'  
'Well you can stay out here if you want but you'd probably be more comfortable inside...water's boiling...' Ron replied with a smile on his face. She'd come back. He couldn't help but keep from smiling, all feelings of exhaustion forgotten.  
Standing up, he hooked his toes around the handle of Hermione's bag, lifting it up with his foot, getting hold of it properly and walking back into the flat, leaving the door open.  
As Ron made the tea, Hermione quietly walked into the kitchen and perched herself on an empty worktop. She watched Ron closely whilst he moved around the kitchen and was almost startled when he started talking.  
'So, how long were you outside for?' Hermione shrugged. 'A while. I finished work at 3pm as I have done a fair bit of overtime recently and so had no more reports to write. I decided to go home - haven't been home since Matthew left. I've been avoiding going there but decided it was probably time. And guess what I found when I walked in my front door?'  
Ron looked sheepishly at Hermione knowing exactly what she was talking about. She'll have seen the boxes and that although he was surprised she didn't know - he'd told her parents that that's what he was doing...  
Picking up her tea and stepping over to her he replied whilst avoiding her look. 'Just thought it'd make it easier for you to go back home if all his stuff was-' but he didn't finish the question. Hermione's arms were quite suddenly round his neck, her bushy hair soft on his cheek. 'Whoa, Mione! You spilt your tea all over my foot!' Hermione giggled but didn't move away. She just seemed to tighten her hug, her giggles dying, and Ron wondered if she had started crying again.  
'I'm sorry' she whispered just loud enough for Ron to hear her. He instantly relaxed, reaching his arms around her waist and hugging her tight, trying to keep her hair out of his mug.  
'You? Sorry? You got walked out on, mugged and then walked out on again. What have you got to be sorry about?' He said incredulously. 'I'm the one who is sorry. When you- I just started feeling- you and me-' Ron couldn't make himself finish his sentence but Hermione didn't seem to mind. Instead she whispered 'have you got any food? I'm starving!'  
'Bah hah hah' Ron laughed, letting go of his best friend and finally putting down the cup of tea. 'Now who's only thinking about food?! And no, actually I don't think I have much. Was just going to finish my pizza from last night. Although there might be a food package or 2 from mum in the cupboard. She worries I might starve...'  
Hermione spent the next few minutes scurrying around the kitchen getting together some form of meal for the 2 of them. They ate it mostly in a comfortable silence, both wanting to ask questions, neither wanting to be the first to start that conversation. It was still relatively early when they decided to go to bed. Ron magicked up a bed for himself in the living room, whilst Hermione used his bed.  
'Now this time stay in there for the whole night else I'm going to stop allowing you to use my majorly comfortable sleeping quarters and make you sleep on the hard kitchen floor!' Ron joked as he passed her on the way to the bathroom. They had both decided that they were not in the mood to stay up late tonight. But that tomorrow they'd do some food shopping, buy some firewhiskey and have a lazy day in with a good meal.

As the sun streamed through the window into the lounge the following morning, Ron stretched and reluctantly opened his eyes. Instantly they fell upon a body on the sofa.  
'Again Hermione? Really?' He asked but there was no reply. Putting his feet on the ground and fighting the urge to just stay in bed for a little longer, he quietly walked the few steps over to the sofa. He noticed a cup of tea on the table that was half empty and stone cold. There was a book open in front of her, her wand held limply in her hand on her lap. She was however, fast asleep. Once again wondering how long she'd been there for, he quietly made himself a cup of tea, grabbed a magazine from the pile that he'd gotten from Hermione's house, dragged his duvet off the makeshift bed and made himself comfortable on the sofa next to Hermione, their knees touching. But instead of reading, he watched her. It felt so good to sit here and just watch her being still. To study her without getting caught, to hold her hand and tell her that he was totally in love with her. Ok so he didn't do that last part but he desperately wanted to. He wanted to reach out and cover her hand with his. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he'd always loved her and that all he wanted to do was keep her safe and make her happy. He had even seen a ring that he bought for her as an engagement ring - he was that sure! The reason his other relationships had not worked was because they were not Hermione. She was who he went to bed thinking about, who he dreamt about, who he woke up thinking about.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hermione awoke due to the cramp in her legs. She remembered not being able to sleep in Ron's room yet again. She didn't know what it was that was keeping her awake, but she'd tossed and turned for some time before getting up and tip toeing into the kitchen to get a cup of tea. Having got one of her books from her bag, she'd settled down on the sofa next to Ron's makeshift bed and without realising, had fallen asleep.  
Waking up, without even opening her eyes, she was sure she'd slept better than she had in a long time. She hadn't dreamt, she hadn't woken herself up when she changed positions. She hadn't become uncomfortable or gotten too cold with no blanket to cover her. Strange considering she'd had such difficulty getting to sleep in the first place. She didn't want to move because she was so comfortable, but her legs were feeling cramped and the pillows had moved whilst she slept. Opening her eyes, she noticed Ron asleep on the sofa beside her before she noticed her hand was enclosed in his. Carefully stretching out so as not to disturb him, she moved around on the sofa so that she was leaning against Ron more. She held her breath thinking he was waking, but he just fidgeted, getting comfortable in his sleep.  
For the next hour Hermione dozed some, reading half-heartedly when awake and wishing she could stay like this the rest of the day. She'd been so confused when Ron had left and at first hadn't known what to do. She'd been reminded of Ron leaving her and Harry before the Battle of Hogwarts, and this had really upset her. She knew he'd come looking for her this time, but she'd wanted some time to think. Her life had changed at the drop of a hat, she'd gone to Ron for comfort without thinking and all those old feelings had resurfaced. But she didn't want to do anything rash. She had had time to think, time to get over Matthew - which wasn't as hard as she'd thought. She felt like she'd lost an acquaintance rather than a great love and this time she was going to do it properly. She'd tell Ron how she felt no matter the consequences.

'So you wasted a perfectly good bed yet again then?' Ron snickered quietly, making Hermione jump. She had been so engrossed in her book that she had not realised that Ron had woken up. Suddenly she was very aware of the fact that she was cuddled up with him which was easier when he was asleep because it didn't embarrass her then.  
'So where's my cup of tea then?' He asked her jokingly after an awkward silence where they both sat tensely, trying not to show the other how much were enjoying the closeness.  
'You want a cup of tea, you go get one yourself.' Hermione replied, trying desperately to sound relaxed and sarcastic instead of nervous. Turning slightly in her seat, her hand softly pressing on his leg in order to hold her in this unnatural position, she spoke again.  
'In fact, it's nearly lunchtime! We should get up and do some food shopping so we can start cooking! I didn't have much to eat last night. You see my friend is useless and had no food with which to make a decent meal!'  
Ron laughed loudly, putting on a shocked look. 'Well you should definitely deal with that friend then, because clearly they need some help! I mean what idiot has no food?!'  
Looking as innocent as possible, Ron absentmindedly smoothed Hermione's hair.  
Jumping up and dashing out of the room, mentioning the need for a quick shower before they went out, Hermione disappeared before Ron even had time to think. Watching the empty space in the doorway where Hermione had just disappeared, he smiled, thinking about how it felt to wake up beside her, how natural it felt to have her in his day to day life.

An hour later they were both showered and ready to go. Hermione had made a list of all the things they needed for a cooked meal that evening whilst Ron reluctantly continued onto a list of essentials to buy in order to fill his shelves with 'plenty of nutritional value.'  
'I don't know what I'm meant to put on this list! I normally just go to Mum's if I don't feel like eating pizza or something...' Ron moaned as Hermione laughed.  
'You are impossible Ron. You have the ability to wave your wand and have a three course meal every night and yet you don't!'  
'Have you seen how much practise it takes to conjure up an actual meal? I might as well learn to cook like muggles. It'd take less practise and less skill. Now I know why dad always tries to keep Mum happy.'  
'Ronald Weasley! Don't be so sexist! You are perfectly able to conjure up your own meal. I will teach you to do it if I have to stay here until I go grey. You will eat like a proper human being or I'll eat Merlin's underpants.'  
Ron stared at Hermione, his mouth hanging open in mock shock.  
'Hermione Granger! Watch your language in my kitchen!' said Ron, hand over his heart just like his mother always did when she was shocked by his language. 'Quit your chatter about sexism right this minute young lady!' Ron managed before he dissolved into laughter, his hand slapping on the kitchen counter.  
'Yes yes yes. Alright. C'mon then, let's get going! I think it's meant to rain soon and I'm not in the mood to be wet. Also, I have no intention of actually eating Merlin's underpants, so we best get on with your cooking lessons!' _But I'd happily stay here until I'm grey_... she thought silently.

'Have you got your shopping list?'  
'Yes mother!' _Although if it means you'll stay here until you're grey, I'm not leaving this house_ Ron thought silently.  
Stepping out of the front door there was an awkward silence between the two of them. In the past, anytime they had apparated, Ron had taken hold of Hermione's hand and allowed her to take charge. It was natural now to expect the same thing to happen but neither of them was sure what the other though about it. After a pause, Hermione took a deep breath and trying to act as casual as possible, caught Ron's hand and thought of The Leaky Cauldron. As their feet touched down in the darkness of the busy pub, they began walking towards the back, still holding hands. Therefore, they both felt a bit disappointed when they heard their names called by the familiar sound of Neville's voice, their hands dropping to their sides as Neville came into view, arms full of what appeared to be a lot of baby plants.  
Hey guys! It's good to see you! Where's Harry? Oh, wait, he's on holiday right? No, shouldn't he be back by now? It's his-'  
'Neville!' Hermione exclaimed, a laugh in her voice. 'Are we allowed to answer any of these questions?' Neville laughed at Hermione's remark. 'Sorry guys. It's been such a long day and if I don't get these home in the next 10 minutes and put them in water, they'll start spewing out sticky blue spit. But I want to talk to you both! Neither of you have been around for ages and I have some exciting news! Will you guys come around for dinner next week? With Gin and Harry as well?'  
'Neville, as long as you bring the food, I'll be there! And I'll drag Hermione along whether her nose is out of her book or not!'  
'Thanks guys! Oh, I better get these little guys home, they'll never grow for me otherwise. See you next week, I'll send an owl with a day as soon as possible.' And with that, Neville rushed out of the pub, leaving Hermione and Ron shaking their heads and smiling at the empty space in front of them.  
'I think he must have gotten the job at Hogwarts.' Hermione said softly.  
'Hogwarts? What job?'  
'As a teacher of course.'  
'You're pulling my beard. Neville? A teacher? Have you been drinking alucinatus brew without me noticing?'  
'Oh don't be silly Ron. Neville might have been a scared, quiet little school boy, but he grew up a lot when we weren't there, and he is almost better than me in Herbology. I think he'd make a fantastic teacher. I'd certainly be thankful to have him teaching my children.'  
'Ah yes, I can just imagine it. Ickle baby Nose-in -book Granger. Thick brown curls everywhere, hand constantly in the air before she's even one! Neville trying to prize Devil's Snare from her tiny little fingers!'  
Hermione sniggered at Ron's teasing. 'My daughter will not have brown hair and be called nose-in-book Granger THANKYOU very much! Unlike your loud, snotty son who will be red in the face because he can't get the mandrake off his little broomstick!'  
'Hah! Of course! But he'll get his brains from me, so of course he'll outwit that Mandrake soon enough and show him who's boss! Plus, why won't your kid have brown hair? She going to burn it all off by trying to boil some Polyjuice potion before her first birthday?'  
'Don't be silly! She'll have re- uh I uh real pretty hair.'  
'Mmm hmm.' Ron replied with a glint in his eye.

The morning passed pleasantly - the two joking with each other as they passed through the shops, buying all the groceries they needed but also spending time window shopping, just like they always use to. It felt like the last three years had not happened. That they had not spent months and years apart from each other. They passed old friends who had whispered conversations about whether the two were finally together, they grabbed each other's hands more often than was strictly necessary - often with the excuse to pull the other out of book shops and away from broomsticks. Ron bought Hermione an ice cream at the ice cream parlour and a beautiful pen that he had caught her looking longingly at, whilst Hermione bought some Chocolate frogs for Ron and entered him into a competition to win quidditch season tickets.

Almost 4 hours later, they decided they'd had enough and Ron's stomach was telling them it was time to get home and cook. The left with more packages than they'd intended to buy, Hermione a new outfit that she decided she was going to wear for their dinner this evening and Ron had a couple of replacement pieces for his chess board as some the current pieces were getting quite slow and not very responsive to commands.  
They apparated out of the pub, leaving the noise of the city behind them, appearing once again, hand in hand, in the silence of Ron's building. Ron automatically went to drop Hermione's hand as he allowed her to cross the threshold first, but she held on quite stubbornly until it was no longer practical to be holding onto each other. Hermione made herself busy unpacking the shopping, doing it by hand whilst thinking about what she needed to do for dinner. Ron reappeared after about 10 minutes and momentarily watched Hermione drift subconsciously round the kitchen, muttering things under her breath.  
'Have you finished rearranging my kitchen now? Is dinner ready yet?'  
Hermione looked pointedly at Ron and raised her eyebrow. 'I'm just making your cupboards make more sense. You have your tea in the same cupboard as your pans for goodness sake! And your plates are in 3 different cupboards! Anyway! I'll finish organising them later. We should get on with cooking.'  
And with that Hermione began to tell Ron what to do, bossing him around whilst laughing at his comedic antics. An hour later, Hermione appeared from the bathroom dressed in her new outfit. Ron had set the table with candles and a flower that Hermione had conjured up earlier. Ron had also made a small effort to look charming in a smart robe, usually used for important work meetings or events such as weddings.

Hermione smiled as she thought about a romantic candle lit dinner with Ron. She remembered in school the awkwardness of both Ron and Harry when it came to romance, meals by candle light and such. She remembered Harry talking about his failed date with Cho Chang and found herself laughing out loud.  
'What's so funny this time?' Ron turned, his lanky frame leant lazily against the door frame, whilst he held his wand out, warming the plates just as Hermione had instructed.  
'Nothing in particular. Just reminded of Harry's date with Cho and how you both have grown up so much since then! Hopefully we'll have a more successful evening than that!' Hermione felt so relaxed, more so than she had in a long time. And because of that, she could not stop smiling. For the first time in a long time she wasn't focused on work or worrying if the other person was happy. She was just feeling warm inside, thoughts of a date like evening with her best friend filling her mind.  
'I do dates so much better than Harry, you'll see-' Ron froze. He hadn't meant to say that. He hadn't meant to make it seem like he was treating this as a date. Maybe she hadn't heard him, maybe she was too busy doing-  
'Well, so far you certainly are doing better! The candles are a nice touch, although we might be at risk of catching fire with the amount you have put out!'  
'Ever the perfectionist hey 'Mione? Actually, I had tried making them float like they do at Hogwarts, but they kept sinking. So I just left them on the table.'  
'Ahh I see' said Hermione as she quietly siphoned off some of the wax that was building up on the table. 'Let me have a go at that whilst you bring out the food.'  
Hermione levitated the candles with a couple of flicks of her wand and then whispered a sticking charm. They didn't float and bob around as much as she'd seen them do in school, but at least they stayed stationary. She also decided to charm the wax to collect at the bottom of the candles rather than drop onto the table below. Maybe she'd look into how to float them, you know, just in case she needed to do it again in the future.

Ron carried out 2 empty plates just as Hermione was making sure her charm had worked. 'Will you bring out some of the food for me?'  
Hermione laughed at Ron. 'I see, make me do the candles AND bring out the food! Whilst you carry the empty plates! I see what's going on here!'  
'Hey excuse me! I carried plates AND chose the drink! It's important to keep a balance you know! Wouldn't want to be accused of sexism again by being too gentlemanly!'

Once the table was set, Ron gave an enthusiastic wave of his wand. Both chairs began doing a sort of dance, getting dangerously close to knocking the food off the table.  
'No! I only meant to move the chair out slightly so you could sit down. How do I make them stop?' Ron felt so foolish. Harry had taught him a simple charm some time ago in order to move the chairs so as to be a gentleman on a date. But he'd never used it before and now he'd obviously said something wrong. But it didn't seem to matter because Hermione was bent double, hysterical with laughter. At that moment Ron decided she was the most beautiful thing on the planet. Her cheeks were red, her smile wide, her hair had already begun to escape its cage. Whispering whatever came into his head, nothing would stop the chairs and then he remembered the charm that put an end to previous charms. 'Finite Incantatem'Ron blurted quickly, the chairs stilling instantly. Hermione's hiccups and escaped laughter was all that was left to hear. She scooted on over to her chair and beckoned for Ron to take his seat too.  
'That was amazing Ron! I haven't laughed as much as I have today in a long time. Thank you. I needed this. I needed this to regain my sanity! Who knew a couple of dancing chairs would be so funny!'  
'You know, for someone so clever,' Ron began in reply, 'you really are amused by the simplest of things. You are one crazy and complex person!'  
They began to serve themselves from the various items on the table. Hermione's plate was a neat tray of food displayed pleasantly in front of her, not too much of anything - knowing she could go back for seconds. Ron's plate however, became a jumbled mass of colours, everything heaped up so that there was little chance of the food actually staying in the plate rather than spilling over into the table.  
As he took his first bite, he started the conversation again. 'Fo, wok are you going go goo agouk Maffew's skuff?'  
Hermione raised her eyebrow. 'Sorry did you say something? You really shouldn't talk with your mouth full Ron.'  
Ron finished his mouthful quickly and repeated 'what are you going to do about Matthew's stuff?'  
'I contacted his best friend and basically told him that if Matthew valued his items, everything belonging to him would be gone by next weekend else I'm putting them in the fire. You did most of it for me' Hermione said as she covered his right hand which was resting on the table. 'for which I'm so thankful. I don't think I could have done it myself. I just spent a couple hours the other day making sure all the rest of his items from around the house were either packed away or in his room so they can be in and out as quickly as possible. Which reminds me, I've changed the security charm on my house so they won't be able get in unless I'm home.' Hermione stated all this with little emotion in her vice, but, suddenly she looked down at her plate a gave a barely audible sigh. 'Will you be there with me when he comes over? I'm sure I'd be alright, but I might need someone to stop me from punching him in the face...'  
'Of course I'll be there Mione, although I can't promise I can stop any punching...' Ron laughed. 'I'd say that you could invite Harry and Ginny to stop either of us throwing some punches but thinking about it, the more of us there, the more punches this dude is going to get!' There was a short silence as they chewed on their food and Ron watched Hermione closely before talking again.

'Why did you go out with him Hermione?'  
Hermione looked up from her food, surprised at Ron's personal question. They'd talk about Matthew a bit, sure, but she'd shied away from talking about him at length. She tilted her head to the side and after a short pause, she opened her mouth. Then she closed it. She was so sure for a split second about what her answer would be. But as she was about to say it, her mind did that double take. Did she really know herself how she'd managed to stay with Matthew for three years? How she'd ended up living with him.  
'He was sweet to me Ron. At first he said all the right things, did all the right stuff. I was-' here she faltered. Not long before Matthew, her and Ron had almost been a thing. By the end of the war they were so busy. What with the wizarding media, meetings with the Muggle Prime minister, meetings with the ministry of magic, finding her parents, funerals and hospital visits, meetings with Arthur Weasley's department and other departments as they were able to help with the sudden and short lived increase in movement of dark objects as the remainder of Voldemort's followers rushed to be rid of anything that might go against them during the Columbus house raids that came after the final battle. They'd helped to rebuild Hogwarts, they'd sat through interview after interview, been called to testify at people's hearings. For months they had no time to themselves and they didn't talk about what happened between them in the common room before going to the chamber of secrets. They didn't discuss the fact that Ron had called her his girlfriend in the Room of Requirement, they'd not spoken about what was meant to happen next.  
'Why did you stop talking to me.'  
'Why did I-? Mione, I tried to keep myself in your life but Matthew never seemed to like me-'  
'Before Matthew. Before any of that. Why did you push me away? Why didn't you let me help you after the final battle?'  
Ron looked down at his plate, his breath suddenly becoming more strained. Covering his eyes with his right hand, his thumb and finger resting on either temple, he closed his eyes and was instantly taken back to that time. Seeing Harry and Hermione during that time seemed to make things harder. After the funerals for his brother, for Remus and Tonks, for students from school, for family friends and his dad's work colleagues, for those in power where the trio were expected to show up, for those he'd never met before where they went out of respect to the surviving families, he had been drained. He was full of grief for Fred. Full of guilt about not being more help to George. He left the burrow everyday with a knot in the pit of his stomach- worried that someone else in his family would be hurt before he came home. He couldn't look his mother in the eye for weeks. All he'd wanted to do was run away. But he'd done that before. He'd left his best friends because of his weakness and he could have lost them as well.  
'I failed her 'Mione. I failed my mother. If I hadn't have been so weak and run away from the fight, if I'd been strong like you and Harry, maybe we'd have gotten to the school earlier. Maybe we'd have been able to save some of them. Maybe Fred would still be here. Maybe Tonks wouldn't have come to Hogwarts because she'd have still been pregnant. We might have won the war 'Mione, but we lost the fight. I see it all the time in mum's eyes. She's not the same person she used to be, and I felt so guilty.'  
Hermione stared at Ron, her mouth open. 'Ron.' She replied, 'how can you blame yourself for all those deaths? How can you feel responsible for Fred? Ron, you showed incredible strength. Ever since you were 11 years old you've been fighting Voldemort - had you not been there for Harry, stayed by his side and fought his battles right alongside him, he'd be dead right now and so would a lot more people. Ron looked up at Hermione, clearly hearing what she was saying but still not accepting it. He'd felt guilty for it all for so long that it helped to mask the guilt he felt for abandoning his friends.  
'Can we just get back to dinner and joking around please?' He said, not wanting to talk about it.  
'No. I think we should talk about it. It's kept us apart for three years Ron. Three years where we only spoke because we happened to be in the same room or at the same meal. Three years of me thinking I'd done something wrong and not understanding how a friendship like ours could so easily have been torn apart. Three years of me writing letters to you but never sending them because we weren't talking. And do you want to know why I kept writing letters? Because talking to you helps me when I'm stressed or scared, when I'm sad or bored. Anytime something good happens you are the first on my mind and I imagine myself telling you all about it. So, I wrote to you. That way I felt like we'd talked, I felt like I could get through another day. Don't get me wrong, I talked to Matthew about things, but he never really knew what to say that would help. Sometimes he'd go on and on trying to explain the situation through with me when all I needed was someone to make me laugh and distract me for half an hour so that then the answer comes to me without me even thinking about it. It was the same the other way round I guess. I never knew how to help him, whether to laugh and joke, talk it through and be logical, sit and listen... I never really had that problem with you or Harry. At least, I didn't worry that I was doing or saying the wrong thing. I just went ahead and said it anyway...'  
Whilst she talked Hermione didn't look at Ron. She looked at his hands, into the empty space next to his head, at the table. She pushed her food around her plate and fiddled with her glass. But as she said this last sentence, she looked up at him and was surprised to see him watching her intently, his head slightly tilted to the side. A sly smile appeared on his face at her last words.  
'Why are you looking at me like that?'  
'Yea, I never saw you as someone who struggled with what to say. Or do for that matter!'  
The silence returned as neither of them knew what to say. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing, concentrating hard to stop the tears from forming behind her eyes. The silence stretched on.  
'I didn't know.'  
Hermione looked up at the sound of his voice.  
'I didn't realise what you were going through. I thought you were happy.'  
Ron paused, silently studying the beautiful girl in front of him, excuses and reasons flying back and forth around his head. If he could just make her understand.  
'I thought- I assumed you were happy. I just wanted you to finally have some stability and be happy.  
I was ashamed. Listening to everyone talk about what we were doing during the year, people patting me on the back and saying 'good job Ron! It wouldn't have happened without you. You guys are strong and courageous. Heroes. Role models...' But I wasn't any of that 'Mione. I was a coward and an idiot. I made life hell, and then left you. I was stupid and cowardly and always have been. Harry spent his whole life being belittled and unseen, then famous for being an orphan, accused and tested, loved then destroyed then loved again. He faced everything like a true Gryffindor. I was scared of spiders, of devils snare, even a dog for Merlin's sake!  
When you kissed me in the common room, I felt like I could do anything, be anyone. It felt like, in that very moment we had defeated Voldemort because there was no way he could pull us apart. Us, the order of the Phoenix, those who had never given in through years of pain and fear. And then they died. Fred, Crabbe, Colin, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Mad Eye, Dumbledore, Dobby, even Hedwig. And the more they interviewed us, the more they hashed through every single thing we'd ever done since stepping on that train for the first time, the more they poked and prodded... The more I felt like, out of all the people Harry had to have been friends with, why me? I did nothing to help him all those years. I was moody and envious. Childish and scared. And during that year, I showed no signs of being any more than a little child not getting his own way. I-'  
'Ron!' Hermione said quietly as she put her hand over his, stilling the nervous movements.  
'Ron, you have got to stop believing that you deserted us. Yes, you left but you said yourself, you tried to come back almost immediately but couldn't. If you hadn't gone we'd have been captured earlier because we didn't know about the curse on his name. And we wouldn't have had spare wands to get us away from the Malfoy's. We wouldn't have saved Luna and Ollivander because we wouldn't have known where was safe to move them to. In fact, had you stayed and we'd gone to Godric's Hollow, Harry might even have died that night because I would not have been left alone in that godforsaken house scared out of my wits. I wouldn't have noticed what was wrong quick enough and that would have been it for all of us. I missed you Ron. Those weeks you were gone I cried every night. I refused to even say your name because I was angry and scared. Angry that you had left me to be strong for Harry on my own but also angry at myself for not being enough to make you stay.  
And it wasn't you. That necklace affected you more. Not because you were weak or cowardly. Because there was more in you for it to drain. You said yourself that Harry had a hellish life, regularly lonely and starved - the only good thing to happen to him was us and Hogwarts. And we were right there beside him! I spent most of my childhood being bullied. In fact, you and Harry were basically my first friends. I'd had one friend in primary school who I ate lunch with, but she barely spoke any English and I spent a lot of time with her more because of that than because we were genuine friends. I was always used to small gatherings and months of only talking to my parents. Then I spent most of our Hogwarts years away from my parents and mainly socialising with just the 2 of you. But you had it all. You were from a huge family who were closer than most. You had parents who loved you, brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins to experience things with, a childhood full of happy memories, people gravitate towards you because of who you are, your Hogwarts days were full of your favourite things. Food, friends, independence, adventure... The necklace had so much more to take from you. I think that's why it seemed to affect you more.  
But most importantly, we forgave you. Harry forgave you immediately, there's no arguing with that. He had his family back when you returned. I think I forgave you pretty quickly, I was just too stubborn to let you know that. I watched you sleep, wanting to hold your hand to be sure you were really there and make sure I never lost you again. And then when Bellatrix had me at the Malfoy's, I was so angry with myself for not telling you how glad I was to have you back, scared that I'd never get the chance.'  
Hermione fell silent, her eyes closed against the horrors of those memories. She touched her arm absentmindedly, feeling the scars left from Bellatrix's torture.

'I know why Harry forgave me so quickly but I wouldn't say it was all to do with him having me back.' Ron said wryly.  
'What do you mean' asked Hermione, cocking her head to one side with a confused look on her face.  
Suppressing a smile at the thought that Hermione had no idea that she was missing information, it was quite satisfying. But that smile was quickly replaced with a frown as he remembered that night in the woods.  
'Harry saw, first hand, all my insecurities and probably just felt sorry for me!' Ron joked, trying to distract himself from the memories.  
'Ron? Did something happen the night that you pulled Harry out of the lake?'  
Ron looked straight into her eyes and not for the first time was amazed at the love he saw in them. He knew deep down that Hermione loved him the same way that he loved her, he was just too scared to admit it. It meant hiding nothing from her - telling her all the things that he tried to keep to himself. Of course she knew something else had happened. She always knew these things and he'd heard her asking Harry if something else had happened, he'd seen the looks of questioning on her face to both of them, but she'd never pushed them to tell her and he had certainly had no plans to explain that night to her. But maybe now was the time.  
'You have to understand Hermione, that that bloody locket pulled up everything. Every single issue I had with myself and those around me. Of course I know that my family loves me but it still never erased that fact that I was the 6th in a line of boys who all excelled in their own ways - head boys, quidditch captains, Gringotts employees, dragon trainers, even popular class clowns and business owners! I went to Hogwarts fully intending to find myself, try to step out of their shadows and yet immediately I stepped into the shadow of one of the most famous boys in the wizarding community. And then further into the shadow of the cleverest girl Hogwarts has seen in a very long time! Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change it, but I was young and immature and downright jealous. But I got over it - at least it became less of an issue as I began to experience things myself - getting to go on holiday outside of Ottery, being friends with people outside our little group, having a relationship even if it was the worst experience of my life! Working as a team to hear the Order's plans, joining the quidditch team, showing you guys up at chess! I began to feel more like an individual than just 'a Weasley', I had the inevitable fall out with Harry during the Triwizard tournament then got over it and life went on.  
But wearing that locket? It just brought it all back up. You said it affected me more because I had more to lose, and maybe that was part of it. But I'd had so many issues mixed in with my worries that it all came boiling out.'  
'But what's all that got to do with Harry forgiving you?'  
'When we found the sword he said I should be the one to destroy the locket. But as soon as he opened it, it howled and screamed and started showing things. Like those tevelisions that the muggles watch. It was everything it had stirred up in me right in front of my eyes. It went on and on about how useless I was and how unwanted I was. It said I was an unwanted child, a tiresome friend, a waste if space. Everything I've always worried about.'  
'But that's not even slightly true-'  
'Mione I know. I know none of it's true but it's how I felt for a long, long time. I almost allowed it to convince me of it all, but then it did something else. It became you. You and Harry. The things it said.' At this Ron shook his head. 'And then you were kissing. You and Harry. My worst fear happening right in front of me. And I snapped. I got so angry and charged at the locket, focusing only on getting rid of that image.'

'And Harry saw it all? That's why he forgave you before you'd even come back to the camp. But surely you never believed me and Harry- you know-'  
'Really truly believed it? No. Convinced myself of it regularly? Yes.'

Tears ran down her checks as Hermione tried to take in everything Ron had just told her. His worst fear was of her being with someone else.  
Of her being with Harry.  
'You kissed me and my world suddenly got so much brighter. You caused this force inside me. But when Fred died - just seeing you reminded me of how he'd never get the chance to be with his one true love. Every time I was with you or Harry, all I could think about was why did I survive, after everything we went through and all the idiot things I did, why was I the one still alive and he the one who died. And the more I pulled away, the more you turned to Harry for support which made me feel even worse.  
I had this dream one night, a dream about us, of us walking through a forest hand in hand. I felt totally calm and at peace - knowing that having you by my side meant I could get through anything. I wasn't scared, I didn't feel alone, I wasn't haunted by the sounds of screams and crying. I knew I had to get you back again.

That was the day you introduced us to Mathew.'

Hermione gasped. If only she had been more patient. 'You were the only one I ever wanted.' Hermione said quietly. 'Since you told Malfoy to eat slugs, I knew you would be the one to protect and keep me safe. You just never seemed interested. Every time I thought you might actually see me as something more than a friend you'd do or say something, and I'd know I was wrong. I never could go there with Viktor because he wasn't you but then you went and had that fling with Lavender and I was so angry with myself. Then in the forest, you disappeared, and I was so scared that I'd lost you.  
Then you disappeared again – maybe not physically – but you pulled away, for months it was different when we were together, and I was angry and sad and lonely. And sick of convincing myself that you would want to be with me.  
I think that's why I was so fooled by Matthew. So desperate to believe that not waiting for you had been the right choice that I didn't want to notice how wrong it was! I love you Ronald Weasley. I always have and always will.' Hermione took hold of his hand and looked him straight in the eye as she said this. She wished she never had to let go again. 'Please don't ever leave me again.' She added in a whisper.  
Ron stood, his hand still in hers and walked round the table turning her to face him, kneeling in front of her.  
'I love you too Hermione. You are my everything and I promise I won't ever leave you again. As long as you promise me one thing.'  
Hermione raised her eyebrow at him as he disappeared into his bedroom, reappearing a few moments later.  
'Will you, Hermione Granger, please, please, please-' Ron grinned, pausing to look at his beautiful 'Mione before opening his fist to reveal a small simple ring. 'Marry me?'  
Hermione gasped, not expecting the question but knowing full well what her answer would be.

'Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes.' Pulling him up, she pulled him into a tight hug, tears of pure joy slipping down her cheeks. She couldn't say anything, her mind so full, so she pulled him close, knowing that her wish had come true. Once again, her lips touched his and it felt even better than it had all those years ago.

…THE END.

Well there you have it! Hope you liked it! I have so many feelings and opinions and beliefs around how Ron feels, about how he hates being jealous but how it just keeps happening, about how he has so much joy and love and happiness, but that he doesn't realise what he has because to him it's so normal. I enjoyed writing those parts about how they both viewed the effects of the locket because it's such a complex thing to think about. Although it's a magical item, the effects and the emotions are absolutely and utterly human and felt regularly by the majority of people.  
I think that even this story doesn't touch deep enough on how effected the trio would be, let alone so many of the students who were at Hogwarts during that last year. People have gone through a whole lot less and suffered debilitating PTSD. I always felt that Ron, with his wacky and loveable and slightly adolescent character, would be thrown into an uncontrollable grief that would eventually need ALL of his loved ones to pull him out of. For Ron, my answer to all his issues would be that he comes through it when he sees the Love. Love is what gets him through even if he doesn't see it.

 **Hope you enjoyed it! I am currently writing Missing Moments, mostly from Ron's POV, but I wont be uploading them staright away – I like to have a bank of them to begin with so that I can go back and change any details if needs be**!


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